


Under the Mistletoe

by ardentaislinn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa, Gen, Mistletoe, team shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye makes a plan to bring Fitz and Simmons together. A plan that involves mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookishandbossy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishandbossy/gifts).



"What are you doing?" Bobbi's customarily brusque voice asked from behind her.

Skye started in surprise and the ladder she was perched on wobbled precariously. Recovering her composure along with her balance, she looked down at the taller woman. Bobbi was glaring at the abundance of decorations that Skye had spent the better part of the morning putting up. Even Skye had to admit that the explosion of tinsel and seasonal decorations was bordering on excessive. She also didn’t care.

"Mistletoe!" she replied cheerily, waving the item in question as close to Bobbi's face as she could. Bobbi swatted it away with only slight irritation.

"Why? If you are trying to get Trip to kiss you, I'm pretty sure you only need to ask nicely."

Skye felt her face heat traitorously. She was opening her mouth to issue a staunch denial when _of course_ Trip's head popped around the corner.

"Who wants to kiss me?"

If it was possible, Skye's face went even redder.

"No one," she answered fiercely at the same time as Bobbi said "Skye," with a shit-eating grin.

Trip looked between the two of them with a raised brow. Skye knew it would be worse for her if she protested too much, but she couldn't seem to say _anything_ in her own defense.

Eventually, Trip grinned. "Well, I'm pretty sure the answer isn't 'no one'. How could it be?" He gestured to himself with a smug expression.

Skye was never sure how much of his confidence was feigned for teasing's sake, but she also felt he had pretty good reason to be self-assured.

At her silence, Trip continued, holding Skye’s gaze. "So I'm fairly sure the answer has to be you." His expression changed to an intensity she'd never seen from the normally laid-back specialist. Her insides gave a pleasant twist in response.

"Do you want me to want to kiss you?" She asked him a little breathlessly.

Trip broke their eye contact to pick up the mistletoe that she hasn't even realised she'd dropped.

"What do _you_ think?" He murmured as he handed her the sprig, his fingers brushing over hers. Skye temporarily forgot how to breathe.

The moment lengthened. Skye was just considering the most elegant way for her to get off the ladder and throw herself on him when Bobbi cleared her throat loudly, breaking the moment.

"So are you two going to make out, or what? I've got stuff to do."

Skye used the opportunity to take get some air into her lungs, then glared at Bobbi. " _Actually,"_ she said pointedly. "I'm going to finish hanging this mistletoe. Which is for _Fitzsimmons._ If you must know." She could feel her own defensiveness in the arms that she had folded over her chest and the mullish set of her jaw. The moment with Trip had really thrown her.

Bobbi's face cleared. "Ah, yes. Now there's a pair that need some help. I was positive there could be no couple in creation worse at communicating than Lance and I, until I met those two."

Skye nodded enthusiastically as Trip grunted in agreement.

"But they also resent interference," Skye continued. "Hence the mistletoe."

"And that doesn't count as interference?" Trip asked, amused.

Skye shrugged. "Not directly." His grin widened.

Skye reached up to begin affixing the mistletoe once again. She saw a slight movement out of the corner of her eye, and when she turned she saw May arriving, silent as ever.

"What are you doing to the break room?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest and raising an eyebrow.

"I'm hanging mistletoe," Skye told her. "For Fitzsimmons _,"_ she added quickly, not wanting May to get the wrong idea. The older woman said nothing for a long time, and Skye squirmed a little on the rung she was perched on. She was surprisingly concerned about what May would think of her plan.

"Carry on," was all May said before she left the room. Skye thought she might have imagined the faint smile hovering on her lips.

“So, we are all in this, right?” Skye asked the other two.

“In what?” asked Lance, entering the room. “Do we have another mission?”

“Of sorts,” murmured Bobbi. She and Lance looked at each other, then quickly away.

“We are going to get Fitzsimmons to kiss under the mistletoe,” Skye finished after a moment of awkward silence.

“Oh, yeah. Those two need all the help they can get. And I thought _we_ were bad at communicating,” he said to Bobbi, clearly only half-joking.

Skye reached up and finally managed to tape the mistletoe on the roof above her. Trip handed her down from the ladder, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, which sent a frisson of awareness down her arm and through her body.

Bobbi grabbed the ladder and carted it away as Lance hovered, unnecessarily attempting to help her.

Just in time, too, as Fitz and Simmons wandered into the room together, each peeking a look at the other when they thought they weren't looking.

"What's going on here?" Fitz asked when he finally noticed the other people in the room.

Skye glanced around and realised how suss they all looked, standing in a line with false smiles. "We were...er...just about to watch a movie!" she prevaricated. She tried very hard not to look up at the mistletoe.

Jemma looked suspicious, but Fitz didn't seem to notice anything was off. "Which one?" He asked, stepping forward. Jemma naturally followed. _Just a few more steps._

"Um...," she muttered, trying to think what would most appeal to them. "Godzilla?" She asked, picking the movie with the most wanton destruction she could imagine.

"Oooh!" Fitz stepped forward excitedly. _Yes._ Now for Jemma.

Skye glanced up, gauging the distance. But Jemma saw her and followed her gaze. Her eyes shot down to Skye's, and a speculative look entered her eyes. Skye froze, wondering if she'd ruined the plan.

Instead, Jemma took a very deliberate step forward and, with a smile quirking her lips, joined Fitz under the mistletoe.

Skye grinned. "Hey, look, mistletoe," she said casually.

Fitz's gaze shot up in horror. "What? No," he began, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he tried to back away. Jemma stopped him with a light hand on his arm. Fitz paused and glanced shyly up at Jemma.

"Should...," was all he managed to get out before the rest of his sentence was muffled by Jemma's lips colliding with his.

From Skye's point of view, it was adorable for all of five seconds. She subtly fistbumped Trip without even looking, knowing he’d be waiting for her. But Skye regretted her interference when the kiss got hot and heavy almost immediately, and the three other team members cleared their throats and tried to look anywhere else but at the lip-locked couple.

"Did I hear someone say Godzilla?" Lance asked in a strangled voice.

"I'll get snacks," said Skye, grateful for the excuse to leave.

"I'll move the couches," Trip volunteered.

"Blankets," was all Bobbi said before fleeing the room. The team scattered, except for Fitz and Jemma, who were far too wrapped up in each other.

`

Hours later, May and Coulson entered the break room to find the four of them curled on various couches. They were all staring determinedly at the TV, and the sound was raised to earth-shattering levels, clearly to drown out any ambient noise that might be floating down the corridor.

"What's going on?" May asked.

Skye glanced up at her, somehow managing to look like she'd won the lottery and witnessed a Lovecraftian horror at the same time. "Let's just say the plan worked."

May suppressed a grin, but felt her lips twitch.

“I bet you’re all glad I insisted on the surround sound now, aren’t you?” Lance muttered.

"Plan?" Coulson asked. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," came the chorus of replies.

"It doesn't involve any monkeys, does it?" he asked cautiously, clearly remembering the previous year's Christmas.

`

The soft hush of the wee hours of the morning permeated her bunk. Fitz was on his back, staring at the ceiling. Jemma lay half on top of him, the sheets tangled about their waist. The air conditioning moved gently over them, cooling their sweat-slicked skin.

Jemma sighed happily, trying not to doze. Fitz was tracing an anxious pattern on her spine and she was waiting for him to talk about it.

"Are you... Was this...," he began eventually. He took a deep breath and finished. "Was this a once off?" he asked, his voice sounding smaller than he probably would have liked.

Jemma propped herself up on her elbow so she could see his face. He was trying to look nonchalant, but the vulnerability was shining through.

She thought about laughing, given how ridiculous that question was, but the anxiety in his eyes stopped her. “Of course not,” she told him firmly.

He let out a long breath and smiled, sunshine bursting through the clouds. “Good.” He paused for a moment, and Jemma studied his face, so glad that she was allowed to now. “What made you do it? What made you decide now was the time? You’ve known how I feel for so long and yet…” He broke off and shrugged. The question didn’t have much hurt behind it. Jemma understood. It was hard to hold onto hurt when it was being supplanted by so much happiness.

“I needed to make sure you felt the same. That _I_ felt the same. And then I couldn’t find the right moment. So when I saw the mistletoe I realised I wasn’t going to get a better excuse to kiss you.”

His eyes dropped to her lips and heated. Jemma’s core clenched and she almost rolled her eyes. She’d lost count of the amount of orgasms she’d had that night, she _probably_ didn’t need another one.

“Do you really need an excuse?” Fitz asked, his free hand carding through her hair and tugging her closer. Jemma grinned as their lips met, but her smile quickly faded as the kiss deepened.

“Not now, I don't,” she whispered as his lips began trailing down her jawline. He rolled and Jemma landed beneath him, arching as his hand skimmed down her side and took hold of her hip. Her own hands clutched at his back, bringing him ever closer.

His hands were slow and lazy as they prepared her. The last few hours had softened the edge of their need for one another. Only temporarily, of course.

 _Maybe one can never have_ too _many orgasms,_ was her last thought before Fitz entered her. Soon enough she was once again on the brink, unable to control her cries.

“Seriously, again?!” she vaguely heard Skye shout down the corridor. Then, thundering explosions sounded from the breakroom, drowning out everything but the pleasure rippling through her.


End file.
